A Day in the Life of Royalty
by CrystalAndKieran
Summary: Another Josh/Frankie oneshot! Funny, weird, and insanely OOC are the key words here. The pair are forced to go on a horseback journey, in which Josh gets thirsty, they make friends with fleas, and Frankie throws up. A story that stems straight from the Deandra Legacy.


**A/N:** Hey, loves! It's another Frankie/Josh oneshot, one you have all been waiting for, I'm sure. This story's unofficial title is probably "Horses B Cray", as dubbed by my friend, ahem, _Joe_. (Her name is Victoria, don't tell her I told you.) Anywho, Joe is a genius, and completely thought up the entire plot and even kindly edited this for me. She says:

It's Joe, just kidding I'm not telling you my name. I don't care if you didn't like this. If you did, great. If not, why are you still here? I'm afraid I edited this for my friend, not for you so deal with it. -Screw you haters, Joe.

Yep. My lovely friend Joe. So, back on topic, Josh and even Frankie are incredibly OOC here. Joe edited out most of the OOC-ness, but I threw a bitch-fit and put them back in. I'll swallow my pride now and say, "Joe, you were right. I am wrong. BUT I ALREADY PUBLISHED IT BWAHAHAHAHA" Please follow, favorite and review, or Frankie will come after you with a box!

(You'll get it when you read the story.)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Disney. If I did, I'd wouldn't be writing fanfiction, would I?

* * *

"I can_not_ believe this is happening," Frankie huffed, slamming on her boots. "This isn't fair, they didn't even _ask _me—"

"Francesca," the riding mistress said sternly. "Josh is a well-learned, well-mannered young man. And, unlike you, he is quite adept at riding. If anything happens, he will set it right in no time at all."

Frankie glared at her. "If anything happens, it'll be _Josh_ who caused it!"

The riding mistress heaved a large sigh, wishing she could knock some sense into the stubborn princess.

"Smooth sailing, captain?"

Speak of the devil, and he appears.

Josh, in his blond, blue-eyed glory came striding up to the two of them. The mistress beamed, and Frankie glowered at him. He beamed back at her. "Rough seas, unfortunately." the mistress said apologetically. "Sorry about that."

"Actually, this metaphor doesn't work at all." Frankie interrupted angrily. "Because—"

"Because the sea is beautiful during a storm, and you are not." Josh finished smoothly. "Well? You ready?"

Frankie frowned. "I suppose," she muttered, fixing the straps of her boots.

Josh leaned towards her. "You mean, 'As ready as I'll ever be!' or 'I was _born_ ready!' or 'I was ready since the word ready came into common usage!' or 'Prince Josh, you look sexy as hell.' or—"

"I think we should start heading out." Frankie interrupted, glaring at him. "I'd rather get this over with as soon as possible."

"I was thinking the _same_ thing." Josh said, nodding. "Except, instead of 'I'd rather get this over with as soon as possible', it was 'Prince Josh is sexy as—"

But Frankie had already stomped off in the direction of her horse, muttering obscenities.

After wishing Josh a safe return, the mistress too went off, but probably towards the castle.

So Josh was left alone, wondering exactly _what_ he should do.

Choice one was to be a good little boy and follow good little girl Frankie to the horse, and be a good little boy in general.

Choice two was to lose Frankie in the woods and then run away.

He supposed that was what came of being a coward _and_ a villain.

Josh looked between the castle and his horse, and in the end, decided that Frankie was the lesser of two evils. The other being his mother, of course.

So he walked straight up to his horse, and leaped on, watching Frankie fiddle with her helmet's strap.

"Aren't you going to wear yours?" she asked, holding out another. He scrunched his nose up at it in distaste. "Absolutely not. Helmets are for amateurs. So I suppose _you_ should wear one."

She shook her head and started off her mare in a trot. Josh cantered up behind her. "You're no fun, Francesca. I was thinking more like—" He kicked his horse into a run and whooped as it belted down the countryside.

Frankie kicked her mare up too, so that she was _almost_ next to Josh. An unsafe speed, to be sure.

"This is dangerous!" she yelled over the rush. "We're going too fast!"

"I like to live dangerously!" Josh yelled back, and went even faster.

Frankie wanted to bang her head on the nearest wall multiple times, but there was no convenient wall, so she followed after him.

Her sanity being left behind her as she went, obviously.

"PRINCE JOSHUA!" Frankie shrieked as he dashed on faster. "I _DEMAND_ YOU—"

Josh cackled evilly.

He was so busy cackling that he didn't even notice the sign that read, "Aerondale."

Anyway, he flew straight into it. If he had read, this story may have ended differently. Josh may have gotten home unscathed, and may have gotten home around a reasonable time.

Unfortunately, he didn't read it.

Also unfortunately, his horse had had enough.

And threw him off.

And so, Prince Joshua of Deandra, the handsome, the witty, the undeniably wonderful, was reduced to landing face-first on the yellow grassy field of some random farmer that didn't care much for his crops.

"JOSH!" Frankie landed next to him. "Are you dead?" _Please be dead please be dead please be—_

"Am I dead?" Josh said through a mouthful of grass. "No, look at me, princess. Do I look dead? Do zombies have _this_ perfectly smooth skin?"

Frankie raised an eyebrow.

Josh grabbed her finger and forced it to his cheek.

"Leggo!" Frankie yanked her hand away from her attacker's face. "Get up!"

After what felt like an hour of moaning, complaining and torture for Frankie, Josh sat up and asked for some water.

"I don't have any water." Frankie said, gritting her teeth and trying to control her temper. "And I don't know," she added, looking around warily. "There's something about this place. I'm _sure_ I saw some kind of sign, and it doesn't look like Deandra to me. I don't like this."

But alas, Frankie had been too busy yelling at Josh to have seen _any_ sort of sign.

Josh frowned and stood up, stretching, having not heard any of what she had said after, 'I don't have any water'. "Then let's go ask someone! I'm sure it's against the law to refuse the prince or princess something to drink."

Frankie grabbed his head and turned it towards a vast empty space of nothing.

"Ow!" Josh said, shoving her away from him. "I just asked for some _water_, woman! Not some—" He stopped short. "Oh."

Frankie looked at him in a superior way, a way that did _not_ go down with Josh very well. "The only way to go is _that_ way." She pointed towards a small neighborhood. "You can go ask over there."

Josh glared at her and said. "Then what are _you_ going to do? Just stand here and burn under this sun? Freaking lazy people." he said, grabbing her sleeve and dragging her after him.

Finally she stopped kicking.

"Josh," she murmured. "Josh. Look at this house."

Josh didn't look. "So? It's just some farmer's place, come on."

She grabbed his head again and turned it towards the building. It was a rickety stone structure, messily painted black, with only two tiny broken glass holes for windows. The door was a shabby wooden rectangle that was fixed to an angle. A sign above it read, "_Trespassers, beware_."

Josh sucked in a breath. "Well, look what we've gotten ourselves into, princess. Come on, we should get back."

"Do you even know where we _are_?" Frankie asked incredulously.

Josh swallowed uncomfortably. "Well."

"Oh my goodness, you don't! We're lost!"

"We're not lost!" Josh argued heatedly. "Just...slightly disoriented. Besides," he whirled on Frankie. "Do _you_ know where we are?"

"Do _you_?"

"Do _you_?"

"Do _YOU_?"

"Do _YOU_?"

"Do—" Frankie shook her head. "You're being immature."

Josh smirked smugly at her. "Then _you_ can shut up and let me lead. And _I_ say that we should go home."

Frankie vaguely wondered just _how_ hard Josh had hit his head when he was born.

"But there's nothing." Frankie said, in a furious whisper. "Look! The closest thing I can see is this house."

Josh's heart sank, along with the contents of his stomach. Hopefully he didn't show it. "Then," he said. "then we move forward."

"We'll have to be really quiet though," Frankie murmured to him. "Look."

And he did look this time.

The neighborhood of black painted houses in front of them sent towards them an ominous feel, tasting quite a bit like the danger Josh liked so much.

Or, _said_ he liked.

He held a finger to his lips and crept forward.

They silently wandered throughout the entire ghost town of black homes, and Josh almost cried when he saw a door with a freshly painted skull and crossbones drawn on a door in bright red.

He was pretty sure he had been a ninja or a professional thief in a past life, because he was _that_ good at stalking people.

And tripping over wheelbarrows was something ninjas did all the time.

"Owwwww," he moaned.

"Shut _up_!" Frankie hissed. "Do you _want_ to get caught?"

But it was too late.

The unlikely pair was immediately assailed with pitchforks and ladders and wickedly sharp kitchen knives. "I will kill you." Frankie muttered to Josh, trying to slowly back away. "I will personally put you in a box, then put that in another box, and then another box, and then _smash it with a hammer_." Josh gave her a frightened look. "Or," Frankie contemplated. "Or I could just shove you off a cliff." Then she shook her head. "No, it'd have to be more painful. In fact, I think it should involve a bit of _lava_ and a _meat cleaver_!" she said, her voice growing stronger by the syllable as she remembered exactly _what_ she was murdering Josh for.

Josh swallowed. "I think a bit of therapy would do you a _world_ of good."

Frankie shot him a piercing glare. "And _I_ think that your death would do some good for the _world_."

"Put your hands up!" yelled one of the men, a nasty looking one with a thick black mustache the same color as the walls of his ugly house. Josh wondered if he had painted it.

They put their hands up.

"Now, you little spies," the man snarled, marching up to them. "I'm going to put you in a _prison_!"

"A good evil person would never tell his victims what he would do with them." Josh pointed out. "Just saying."

The man frowned at them. "Get _moving_!"

So they did.

And that was how the two of them ended up in a dark and disgusting prison cell with fleas for friends. "Hey, Frankie," Josh said in the dark. "Do you think fleas have souls?"

"No."

"Do you think they'll give us food?"

"No."

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

"When you have music that has a repeat sign at the end, are you technically going _backwards_ or moving _forwards_?"

"No."

Josh threw some gravel at her. "Aw, come on. Lighten up. I'm bored."

Frankie said nothing.

"Wanna play I Spy?" Josh asked in some form of desperation.  
Frankie snorted. "You can't even _see_ anything."

"I Spy, with my little eye, something..._boring_."

Frankie rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're hilarious. Really."

Josh grinned, and then moved to different tactics. "Knock knock."

Frankie gave an obvious sigh. "Who's there?"

"Boar."

Frankie rolled her eyes again. She knew where this was going.

"Boar who?"

"Boar-ING!" Josh finished gleefully.

Frankie leaned her head against the wall and breathed in the unfamiliar smells and scents of the prison. It was strange, almost, to be smelling something _other_ than the sweetness of flowers or perfumes. Or the metallic tang of gold and silver. Unfortunately, there was one smell that was constant, that wouldn't leave her alone, not even in the prison.

"How about 20 questions?"

"_No_, Josh." Frankie sighed again. "How are we ever going to get out of here?"

"Come _on_," Josh pleaded. "I've been _dying_ to know who you kissed during Spin The Bottle. Pleeeease?"

"Absolutely not."

"Pretty please with five naked Joshies on top?"

"You're _disgusting_!" Frankie said, throwing some gravel back at him. She hoped there was a poisonous spider somewhere in there.

There was a silence.

"Ah, well. I know who you kissed anyway."

Frankie's eyes grew huge. "_What_?"

Josh smirked.

There was another silence.

"I can't believe they _handcuffed_ us together." Josh said, back to complaining again. "I mean, a prison is bad enough, but being handcuffed to the one person you hate the most—"  
"Tell me about it." Frankie agreed, rolling her eyes. "Your diseases will crawl straight from your skin over the metal right to _me_. And _then_ what'll I do?"

"I don't have any diseases!" Josh argued indignantly.

Suddenly, he stood up. "Hey," he said. "Hey, do you see that?"

"See what?" Frankie asked, also standing up to peer at whatever he was peering at.

"That little knob thing." Josh said, pointing. "Come on, I'll lift you up and you can unlock it!" Josh said excitedly.

She awkwardly climbed up onto his shoulders, her arm straining a little from the pull of the handcuffs. She reached up her other hand and turned the knob, swinging it open onto a little stone platform outside. "Victory!" she said joyfully, and climbed through the hole, lifting Josh up with her.

"Okay," he said, looking out onto the view of black blotches against the yellow ground. "I see Deandra is..." he squinted at the setting sun. "There?" he pointed. Frankie stood up on tip-toes to see too. She nodded at him. "Yeah, I think so. How're we going to get down?"

He looked down at the grass. "Seems soft enough." he said, shrugging. "How about a jump, then?" She stared at him. "Are you _insane_?" When he opened his mouth to reply, she stopped him with her hand. "Actually, no, don't answer that."

And then he jumped, without her permission, without her consent, or even without her knowing it. They landed straight on top of some yellow grass. "Good landing," Frankie said, rolling off of Josh, who was, once again, facedown in the grass.

"Déjà vu," he commented lightly, his voice sounding slightly muffled from the grass. He got up from the grass, wincing. "I think I broke a few of my ribs," he said, rubbing his chest. "Just a few."

And they headed off, in the direction of home.

All was quiet and (somewhat) companionable for a while.

"I'm hungry," Josh whined. "Make me food!"

Frankie slumped down on the grass. "I can't." she said honestly, too tired to slap him. "I can barely move. Make yourself some food." Josh coughed, sounding suspiciously like, "Weak."

Frankie sat up, feeling offended. "Or are you too _weak_ to just make yourself something?"

He scoffed. "As _if_."

He dragged her along, (literally) (no, really, she was on the ground) until they were smack dab in front of a cafe.

Frankie looked up at it from her place in the dirt. At least the grass was green here.

"Ew." she commented, and then comfortably closed her eyes.

Josh took a deep breath, calmed all his inner demons, and knocked.

"What do you want?" the man answered, looking at Frankie on the grass.

"We'd like some cooking supplies, please." Josh said politely, looking at his fingers.

_One finger, two finger, three finger, four! Five finger, six finger, seven finger, more!_

He gave Josh a funny look, then left.

Presumably, he came back with some potatoes, some water, and some meat.

"Makes soup. Free supplies. Go away." The man shut the door in his face.

Then he opened it back up, threw out a pot and a spoon, and then shut it again.

Josh looked at his supplies. "How convenient." he said dryly.

Josh dragged Frankie back to their spot in a dense area of trees.

"Dinner is _served_," he said brightly, handing her a potato. She wrinkled her nose up at it. "Ew." she repeated. Josh frowned at her."Now, beggars can't be choosy."

"You mean, you can't cook." Frankie corrected.

Josh had the good grace to look offended. "You, woman, are crazy." he said, pointing at her. "Absolutely nutter and haywire in the brain."

"Then I'd like some potato soup in fifteen minutes."

He gaped at her.

Furiously, he rubbed some sticks together, and made a small fire that was just big enough for some soup. He mashed some potatoes together in the pot, poured in the rest of the water, and threw in the meat too. Then stirred.

He tasted it.

"Hmmm," he said, pondering over the taste. "Needs a little something more." Feeling rather professional, Josh daintily plucked some green grass from beside Frankie's head and threw it in. He beamed. "Perfect."

He poked Frankie in the shoulder. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!" he said cheerfully. Frankie frowned at him. "Puns _not_ appreciated, Joshua. Dinner?"

He proudly brandished his pot.

She looked warily at it. "Spoon?"

He handed it to her.

She dipped it in, and took a sip.

Josh waited.

She promptly threw up all over the perfectly green grass. "THAT'S _DISGUSTING!_" she screamed. "DISGUSTING!"

Josh was screaming a little too. "YOU _THREW UP_?" he screeched. "YOU _THREW UP_?"

Frankie was practically crying. "It tasted like _beetles_, and _mud_, and—"

Josh was hyperventilating. "YOU _THREW UP_?"

Frankie took a few deep breaths to calm herself down, then nodded.

Josh stared at her in shock.

"I think we should go back." Frankie said uncomfortably.

So they did.

When they reached the castle, Phil was waiting for them, and James was editing his written lecture. You needed a little "awesome" in "not-awesome", if that made any sense at all.

It didn't.

Phil squinted at the two haggard figures on the steps of the palace. "Oh, there they are— hand it to me _quick_, James—"

James stumbled over his chair to throw him the paper. He had been doodling on it for a while.

Phil frowned at the short stick figure, with an arrow pointing to it saying, "Phil." The other stick figure was extremely tall and had a crown and super-mega-awesome dragon wings. The arrow read, "James."

"Are you _serious_?" Phil said to James. "I think _I_ should be the tall one. I'm taller than you, anyways."

James scoffed. "You _wish_ you were. I look down on you and other pathetic children."

Phil glared at him. "We will continue this discussion later." Two figures appeared in front of them, right on cue.

"WHERE HAVE YOU _BEEN_?" Phil roared quite impressively. "WE'VE BEEN WORRIED _SICK_ ABOUT YOU TWO!"

Josh looked at Frankie. "Speaking of sick."

"AND WHAT EVEN _HAPPENED_?" Phil noted the green-looking Frankie and the grass-covered Josh. He also realized that Frankie was on the ground, being dragged along. He wondered vaguely if she was dead.

"WHERE ARE YOUR HORSES?" James yelled, suddenly realizing that his horse was missing.

Josh ignored the second question. "Oh, you know." he said lazily. "Time flies when you're having fun."

Then he promptly fainted to join a vomit-covered girl on the ground.

"I didn't even get to finish my lecture!"

* * *

**A/N:** So how was _that_, guys? Looking back on it, I wonder if I was drunk while writing it. Hopefully not. OH! And ADITLOR (this story) is basically my homage to the amazing fanfiction "Her and Me" by Tierfal. I read it, felt inspired and fluffy, and THIS just popped out of nowhere. Go read it and see if you can find the references strategically placed in ADITLOR! GO. GO NOW. Oh yeah, and review, thanks. Until next time, readers, here's a thought: What's Frankie's and Josh's ship name?


End file.
